


Hands All Over (The Happy Ending Remix)

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Both Kinds, Captain America Steve Rogers, Captain America/Iron Man Remix 2018, Explicit Sexual Content, Financial Problems, Happy Ending, M/M, Massage, Massage Therapist Tony Stark, Massage Therapy AU, Pining, Sexual Tension, Stonyclunks, Unethical Sexual Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-22 13:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13765353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Tony is a mobile massage therapist, and Captain America needs to relax. What could go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Robin_tCJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Happy Ending](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6761755) by [Robin_tCJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/pseuds/Robin_tCJ). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Robin_tCJ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_tCJ/pseuds/Robin_tCJ) in the [Cap_Ironman_Remix_Madness_2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Cap_Ironman_Remix_Madness_2018) collection. 



> For Robin_tCj for Cap-IM Remix Madness.
> 
> Thanks to my secret beta <3

“Discretion is key, Mr. Stark.” The man in the suit wasn’t even looking at Tony, he was typing rapidly on his keyboard, eyes fixed on a computer screen with one of those special covers over it so Tony couldn’t see what he was working on. Not that Tony had tried. Hard. “This is a special assignment, and it’s vital that you are able to be discrete and confidential.”

“Not a problem -” Tony glanced at the plaque on the desk again. Why was this guy’s name so hard to remember? “- Agent Coulson. I just go where the muscles need me.” He wiggled his fingers, and Coulson shot him an unamused look.

“Right. Well, we have some forms for you to sign.” He hauled out a huge packet of papers and dumped them on the desk in front of Tony.

“Jesus, who am I massaging? The president?” He got another look. “Oh, shit really?”

“Just sign, Stark. And then we’ll take you to your client.”

“Whatever you say.” Tony tugged the papers towards him and started to read. Despite the size of the stack, it didn’t take long. He’d learned to slog through legal mumbo jumbo a long time ago, and reading speed had never been an issue for him. He zipped through the NDA and a bunch of other nonsense, then signed and initialed everywhere. He handed them back after only a few minutes, earning him an eyebrow raise from the agent, but he took the packet and tucked it in his desk drawer. He stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “Alright, get your stuff and come with me.”

Coulson looked almost… resigned, and Tony started to have second thoughts about this assignment. The dispatcher had sounded a bit nervous when she’d called him to book it. And all this secrecy - Tony had never been good with secrets, he talked too much and thought too little to be able to keep them all in - but this was starting to seem, well, _important._

And who knew what SHIELD was up to? They were one of the shady government acronyms that no one really understood or questioned. Tony certainly had a few questions of his own. But, he was beholden to no one. They couldn’t make him stay and work on someone he didn’t want to, so if they had some creepy fish-human hybrid government experiment with a knot in its scaley back he was turning right around and walking away, money be damned.

But Coulson led the way into the general SHIELD bunks. Tony could see a few doors open in the long hallway and the small living space inside. If they had creepy fish monsters on hand, they probably wouldn't keep them here. They arrived at a door at the end of the hall, and Coulson glanced back at Tony once before knocking. Tony tugged the strap of his table up over his shoulder and tried to school his expression into one of professional disinterest.

But the door sprung open, and so did his mouth.

Captain fucking America was standing there, in SHIELD-issued sweats and a criminally tight blue t-shirt, pouting at Coulson. Holy. Shit.

Cap’s eyes darted over to the case Tony carried and then briefly up to his eyes. “Coulson,” he bit out, looking back at the desk agent. “I’m fine.”

Coulson cleared his throat. “Don’t start with me, Rogers.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up at the tone Coulson was using with _Captain fucking America,_ but Cap just sighed and opened the door further so Tony could slip into his room.

“Fine. But please tell me this is the last one?”

Tony started setting up his table, blatantly eavesdropping. Neither man seemed to care.

“It’ll be the last one when you stop putting sixteen heavy bags in the hospital in a row, not to mention four junior agents.”

“It’s not my fault they’re very breakable.” Tony could hear a hint of delightful sass under Cap’s words. “Same with the heavy bags.”

“Rogers.”

“I know, I know. _Thank you,”_ he added, pointedly, and Coulson chuckled as he walked away down the hall. Cap shut the door and turned back to where Tony was smoothing out the sheets on the table. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled.

“Oh, that’s fine. I usually get worse before breakfast. I have three argumentative roommates.” Tony grinned at him, and Cap huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

Cap waved awkwardly towards the door. “Coulson thinks I need to relax. I don’t exactly need physio - everything just... heals - so the therapists here are better spent helping the agents that need that.”

“Putting back together the ones you put in the hospital?” Tony asked lightly.

To his surprise, Cap laughed. “Just a few broken wrists and one concussion. It’s not the way it sounds - Coulson was just messing with me. Every new unit ends up with half taking a trip to medical before training is over. I didn't hurt them - training is dangerous.”

“I imagine it would be. So you need to relax, huh?”

“Coulson thinks I need to relax,” Cap repeated pointedly.

Tony hummed diplomatically. “Well, relaxing is my specialty. You can strip down to whatever feels - oh, wow. I was, uh, going to wait outside.” Tony flicked his eyes up to the ceiling as Cap unceremoniously tugged his shirt off and dropped his pants.

“Oh, sorry.” Cap actually blushed, and it was the cutest thing Tony had ever seen. “Government lab rat. You kind of… lose all sense of modesty…”

“Not a problem!” Tony lifted the sheets so Steve could slide under them. “I just want to be sure you’re comfortable.”

Cap grunted out something incomprehensible as he burrowed his face in the headrest. Tony took a moment to set out his oils and arrange the heavy sheets over Cap’s back. And now that Cap couldn’t see his face…. Damn. Tony took in every inch of his exposed back as he shifted and resettled the sheets. The comic books hadn’t been kidding when they’d said “Peak of Human Perfection,” Cap was Gorgeous with a capital G.

And Tony got to touch him.

Tony took a moment to breathe deeply and remind himself that he was a very professional professional and that Cap would probably be able to tell if it was drool dripping on his back and not massage oil. _He’s just a client,_ Tony said to himself. _Sure, he’s a fucking legendary superhero who just stripped naked in front of you and who has an undeniably pretty cock, but that’s not the point. He’s a client, Stark!_

Tony started at his feet, figuring - wrongly - that they would be the least distracting part of him. He creased and refolded the blanket to expose Cap’s calf and almost choked. The muscles - _Jesus._ When his hands alighted on Cap’s skin, he flinched.

“You okay?” Tony asked, his voice too loud for the small space - and altogether too rough for a professional.

“Mhm.” But he sounded tense.

Tony started slow, pushing lighter at first, then digging in harder once Cap stopped fighting the pressure.  His thumb found a spot, just behind Cap’s knee, that didn’t feel quite right and he pushed hard into it, making a small circle to work it out. He felt it give, and Cap groaned, the noise rushing straight south and pooling in Tony’s belly. God, what he wouldn’t give to hear him make those noises for another reason.

Tony managed to make it up and down both of Cap’s legs without embarrassing himself by whimpering or crying or proposing or something. And Steve started to relax - just a little. He held an unbelievable amount of tension in his shoulders for someone who couldn’t get soft tissue injuries. His back was a sea of stress knots, and it took Tony a long time to work them free. Normally, he’d do the arms, hands, and even a scalp massage, but it was close to time so he switched to a light touch to work his way down Cap’s back again, then stepped away.

“That’s all for today, Captain Rogers.” He usually stepped out at this point, to give his client a chance to get dressed, but Cap was already bouncing off the table, so Tony turned to his collection of oils and packed them up, trying to ignore the rustling of Cap’s clothing behind him.

“Thanks,” Cap said awkwardly, and Tony turned back, finding him dressed again. “That was - uh - nice?”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. You store a lot of stress in your back and shoulders you know - well, actually pretty much everywhere.”

“Well, I have a lot of stress to store.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly.

“I can only imagine. Still, it’s not good for you to be that tense. Even if you can’t be injured, or at least not long term, I bet it still gives you headaches, makes it hard to sleep?”

Cap’s cheeks pinked. “Uh… yeah,’ he admitted with a shrug.

Tony smiled. “Coulson’s right. You need to relax.”

“It’s not always easy,” Cap grumbled.

“I know. That’s why you’ve got me!” Tony packed away the last of the sheets and folded up the table.

“I do - ? I mean, you’re coming back?”

“If you want me to. I mean I already signed three hundred forms, so seems like a waste if I don’t, yeah?” Tony winked and Cap’s blush deepened. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“Oh no, that would be… nice?”

“Good.” Tony held out his hand. “Until next time, then.”

“Right.” Cap grasped his hand and shook it, and the twelve-year-old in Tony reared up and screamed _you’re shaking Captain America’s hand ohmygoddd tell him you love him!!_ But Tony tamped that issue down firmly and pasted on his Professional Smile™ again.

“Have a good afternoon, Captain Rogers. It was a pleasure to meet you.” He bolted out the door, down the hall, through security, and outside.   

The fresh air on Tony’s face cleared his head a little and he shook himself all over and took a deep breath. The sky was dark and heavy with oncoming rain, the air crisp and moist, so Tony hustled towards the subway, table case in tow.

Sure it was a little awkward, having a crush on a client, but who could massage Captain America and not have a crush on him? It would be fine. And the money was so good, he couldn’t bear to give it up. He was just a little starstruck, it would fade.

This was going to be fine.

**

Even though SHIELD had booked him for four sessions - two a week for two weeks - and Cap had said Tony should come back, he still waited nervously for the final confirmation on the agency’s app. The day before the appointment, the booking turned green, and Tony let out a tense breath of relief. He’d received two final bill notices between their last massage and this one, and he really needed the money. Tomorrow, he’d get paid, and it would include both SHIELD massages, hopefully with a tip, and he’d be able to pay both bills and buy food. The app wouldn’t tell him how much he’d been tipped until the pay came through  - and that was a tragically simple UI fix he was itching to make - but Coulson had implied that SHIELD paid well for silence.

And presumably also for Tony not to fanboy all over Captain America, so really he should make the best of this while he could because he probably wasn’t going to be able to hold back on that forever.

He had an appointment booked for tomorrow, though, and that was all that mattered. He threw himself into building his handwriting bot in the meantime, hunching over the desk in the corner of his tiny bedroom, headphones on so he couldn’t hear his roommates playing Wii tennis in the other room, and fitting together tiny gears and servos. He knew - intimately well - that he could expect a crick in his erector spinae after sitting like this for too long, but he didn’t care. The pull of the engineering flow, sucking him in, and he was gone, the hours whipping away as he sunk in the glory of his perfectly designed little robot.

It was too late when he finally came to again, the bot nearly finished, and he dragged himself into bed, setting his alarm for far too early the next morning so he could be at SHIELD HQ on time. He felt like shit when it went off, but he staggered into a quick shower, brushed his teeth and gathered his things. He didn’t have time to eat, but one of his roommates had already made coffee so he downed half a mug as he pulled his shoes on and shot out the door.

The coffee didn’t sit well as he shuffled through security and then made his way down to Cap’s room. He had no one to escort him this time, and he hung nervously outside the door, wondering what he was supposed to do if Cap wasn’t there. If he even had the right room - what if he’d made a wrong turn at the water fountain?

But he forced himself to raise his fist and knock, and a moment later the door opened. The captain scowled at him for a moment, then seemed to realize who he was and relaxed into a tentative smile. “Oh, Mr. Stark. You're here.”

“We’re booked for ten, right?”

Cap looked down at his watch. “Right. Sorry, lost track of time a little.”

“No worries. Do you need a moment?” Tony gestured vaguely towards the hallway behind him, but Steve shook his head and motioned Tony in. Tony popped his case open and started the familiar process of setting his table up. There was a book resting open on the bed, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Harry Potter?”

Steve huffed. “I’m supposed to be… catching up.” Tony looked up from the sheets he was unfolding in time to see Steve roll his eyes. Then he shrugged. “It’s not bad, actually.”

“Oh no, they’re great. I love them. I just wouldn’t have thought - anyway, yeah. Good choice for catching up. You should read A Song of Ice and Fire too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Great series. Much more, uh _adult,_ but a really immersive world. There’s a TV series too, if you like it.” Tony was surprised to see Cap pull a little notebook out of his back pocket and scribble in it. “All set.” He gestured towards the table.

Cap stripped down shamelessly again, while Tony fussed with the oils. He thought it would be easier this time, since he’d seen all the curves and muscles and lickable places already, but if anything it was harder - in more ways than one. Every time he peeled back the sheets to reveal a new stretch of Cap’s incredible body, it stirred a fresh wave of attraction in him. He knew now to expect the smooth, perfect skin of his back and legs and shoulders and the anticipation of getting to see it again had him amped up and distractingly turned on before they were even halfway through the appointment. It was painfully embarrassing, and he hoped against hope that Cap wouldn’t notice the way he had to adjust his pants before moving on to his lower back.

“So, you been reading a lot to get caught up?” Tony asked, when the thought of super soldier muscles under his hands became too overwhelming to be all he had to fill his mind.

Steve made a rough sound, like he was just waking up then hummed affirmatively. “Yeah. I missed a lot. And people like to make references around me to things I don’t get. I have a lot of spare time, between missions and training, so I’ve been watching movies, listening to music, reading.”

“Spare time? I would have thought Captain America would be busy busy. At the very least, surely you spend a lot of time chasing off your adoring fans.”

Cap shrugged, still face down on the table, which made the movement distinctly silly, and Tony choked back a laugh.

“Sorry. I can shut up if I’m ruining the moment. I’m a chatterbox.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind. And no, not really a lot of adoring fans.”

“I was kidding, Cap.” Tony patted him on the side. “But really, SHIELD doesn’t keep you running all day?”

“It’s busy. But no, I have a lot of spare time. I don't… do much else.”

He sounded sad. It pulled at Tony’s chest and his hands slowed, rubbing soft, soothing circles instead of digging into the muscles. When he realized what he was doing, Tony startled back into focus and dug his thumbs hard under Cap's shoulder blade. Cap groaned, and Tony winced. “Sorry.”

“No, no. It feels good. It feels really good.” Cap shuffled on the table.

“Oh good. Well, let me know if it's too hard.”

“I can take a lot.”

Tony bit down hard on his tongue so the innuendo wouldn't leak out. He worked over Cap’s back, harder this time, and was rewarded with a series of butterfly-releasing groans and moans. He resisted the urge to suggest that Cap should take up porn dub-overs because _fuck_ those noises were sinful. Tony was used to hearing all kinds of filthy things leak out of people's mouths on the table but he usually paid them no mind or even though they were funny. These aren't funny. They were mind melting.

It took a concerted force of effort for Tony to get through the hour without humping Cap’s leg, shoving an accidental boner in his face (of which he'd had more than one), or following the trail of his hands with his tongue. When they were done, Tony let out a tight breath. It felt like all the tension he’d rubbed out of Cap’s muscles, he’d transferred to himself. He was going to have to jack off eight times before he felt remotely human again.

Steve stood and reached for his clothes, and Tony allowed himself the slightest peek over his bag, catching sight of Captain America’s glorious ass as he bent to grab his sweatpants. It was enough to make a man weep.

“So you’re coming back next Tuesday, right?” Cap asked, somewhat uncertainly once he was dressed.

Tony shook himself out of his mental blue-screen. “If you’ll have me!”

“Yes.” He blushed. “I mean - uh - yeah, that’d be good. I think... maybe it’s helping a bit? Thank you.”

“Thank _you,_ Captain Rogers.”

“Steve. Call me Steve, please.”

“Okay, Steve. Tony.” Their eyes locked and wouldn’t seem to let go.

Steve took Tony’s hand in his, shook it gently. “See you on Tuesday, Tony.”

Tony was so fucked.

**

“So how did you like Game of Thrones?”

“Pretty good. I didn’t like it as much as Harry Potter, though.”

“Fair enough.” Tony ran both thumbs up the underside of Steve’s calf and grinned when he sighed, his whole body melting into the touch. Over the last few weeks, Tony had found all the pressure points on Steve’s body and managed to work him into a groaning, dopey mess within their hour together on a regular basis. “Good?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Perfect,” Steve moaned, and Tony filed that away for use later, in his shower. Tony switched to the other leg. “So why did you decide to become an RMT?”

Tony shrugged even though Steve couldn’t see it. “I was lined up to do something else. Take over the family business. But that didn’t work out, so I had to find something that would earn me money. All the men and women at my college told me my hands were magic so it made sense,” he joked, earning a snort from Steve. After a moment he went on. “I - uh - I like machines, robots, computers. People aren’t that different. All the tendons and muscles - they fit together, work together. And if one spot is off, it upsets the whole system. I like fixing things.”

Steve chuckled. “You like fixing me?” Once Tony had gotten him to open up a little, he found that Captain America had quite the sense of humour.

“I’d like it more if you’d have a bubble bath and a glass of chardonnay like I prescribed last week. I swear, you have knots on top of knots.”

“I have no bathtub, and alcohol has no effect on me.”

Tony sighed, resisting the urge to tell Steve he was welcome to use Tony’s bathtub any time, and re-covered Steve’s legs, moving up to the head of the table to work down over his back. Steve let his arms dangle off the sides while Tony worked on the rest of his body, and Tony could feel his hands floating near his ankles. It was intimate somehow, like the barest of touches connecting Steve back to Tony. Completing the circuit, he thought, slightly manically.

He groaned silently and flicked his eyes to the ceiling in silent prayer that this wasn’t going to set off another half-boner situation. He liked Steve, he really did, but he also _liked_ the fuck out of him, and seeing him naked and spread out at Tony’s fingertips was only becoming harder and harder. If he could sacrifice the money, he’d stop coming, but he really needed it.

Besides…  he wasn’t sure if this was something he’d be strong enough to give up anymore. It wasn’t what he wanted - not even close - but he gobbled up the little tastes and scraps of Steve that he got every Tuesday and Friday and wallowed in them every night when he wrapped his hand around himself and groaned into a pillow so his roommates wouldn’t hear.

And, in a previous life, Tony would have acted on that. He would have ramped up the flirting and given Steve his private number to see if he could get to third base with Captain America. But he needed this job, and taking advantage of a client was the number one way to lose it, and his license, and possibly end up in jail - hopefully a different one than Obie ended up in or that would be awkward as fuck. He couldn’t risk it.

So he kept the flirting to as much of a minimum as he could manage, kept it as detached as he could, and jacked off to images of Captain America just like he had when he was twelve and figuring out what got him off for the first time. Though back then, he hadn’t known what Cap looked like with his pants off.

Good was the answer. Very, very good.

So now he had visuals, and he’d seen _the shield_ tipped up against the far wall, and he also knew _Steve_ who was nothing like he’d expected and was even more endearing than Cap was. Steve was a bit shy and a bit grumpy and all over adorable. He stuttered around his words until he was face down on the table and then he seemed to find some confidence again. He was soft and a bit lost, and it didn’t hurt that he had an ass that could launch a thousand F-22 Raptors.

And Tony liked him. A lot. Too much.

But it was too late to back out now. He’d adjusted to the regular paycheques from SHIELD - with sizable tips attached - and he was used to getting to see Steve twice a week, and as pervy as it was that he enjoyed touching him far more than was healthy or professional, he wasn’t sure he could get by without it.

“So is Planet of the Apes worth watching?”

“Oh shit, Steve. You haven't seen Planet of the Apes? You are in for a treat my friend.”

**

Tony cycled through the voicemails on his phone, deleting anything that started with “Your account is overdue -”

“Tony, you little shit.” Tony chuckled - Rhodey. “You never answer your phone anymore. Not that you ever did, but now you’re not even calling me back. Call me back. Please. Ass.”

Tony called Rhodey right away, seizing the moment since all of his roommates were out, but it went right to voicemail. “Now who’s the ass,” he said then hung up.

He stretched out his hands and put all his massage sheets in the laundry before hopping in the shower. It wasn't long before thoughts of the planes of Steve’s naked back set his body interested. He was torturously hot. Tony took himself in hand and stroked slowly, closing his eyes and letting the hot water add additional sensation. He imagined Steve standing up after a massage and, instead of getting dressed, crowding Tony up against the edge of his dresser, hands braced on either side of his hips as he leaned in and kissed Tony breathless. Those big, strong hands tugging at his ass until he hopped up on the dresser and Steve could slot between his knees. He’d wrap his legs around and grind on him while Steve kissed down his neck and -

Tony groaned as he came, smacking his free hand against the wall of the shower to keep him from tipping over. _Fuck._ He hadn’t even made it to the part where Steve slipped his hand down the back of his pants.

The phone was ringing when he stepped out of the shower, so he wrapped a towel around his waist and picked it up. He couldn’t afford caller ID, but on a Saturday afternoon, it was probably Rhodey calling back.

“Hey, asshole.” It was.

“Hey, pal. How’s life overseas?”

“Hot. How’s life rubbing sweaty, rich people?”

“Not enough happy endings,” Tony quipped back.

“Gross. For you or them?”

“Either.” Tony flopped backwards on his bed and sighed.

“That sounded altogether too honest, Tones. You’re not pushing the edges of that sheet are you?”

“No, I am not. Not for lack of wanting though.”

“Got the hots for one of your clients?”

“Yup.” Tony popped the “p”.

“Yikes. Which one?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Come on, Tony, I won’t judge.”

“No, I actually _can’t_ tell you. I signed an NDA.”

“For a massage? You’re not doing anything shady, are you?”

“Nah. He’s just… a celebrity. And I can’t talk about it.”

“Oh, nice. Celebrity rich enough to demand an NDA must leave good tips.”

“Yeah, it’s been nice.” Tony ran his hand through his wet hair. “He’s so hot though, Rhodey. It’s hard to keep it professional.”

“Do you think he likes you back?”

“Nah… he’s gorgeous and famous and incredible. Why on earth would he be interested in me?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Tony. You’re smart and presumably hot - to people who are into that sort of thing.”

“Don't lie, my little seahorse, I caught you checking out my ass at that grad party last year.”

“You were wearing my pants,” Rhodey growled. “I was trying to figure out how to get them back.”

“Oh yeah. Those were bitchin pants.”

“You should have been graduating with me, Tones.”

“Oh, we’re going to do that again? Great.”

“Look, I get that school was a lot to deal with, but you could have taken a semester off and still graduated last year. This massage thing is fun when you’re rubbing up on famous hotties, but you sound tired, man. Don’t take on too much.”

Tony sighed up at the ceiling. He should tell Rhodey, he knew he should, but Rhodey was this last little island of Tony’s old life, when things were good, when he didn’t even know how to pay bills let alone how to deal with not being able to pay them. When Obie had fucked up and brought down the entire company with him, Tony had told Rhodey that his inheritance had mostly been unaffected, but it wasn’t true. Howard had tied all his wealth to SI and when that went down, it took everything with it. Tony had ended up with a car, his mother’s jewelry, and a piano. He sold the piano and the car and went to RMT school.

“It’s fine, buddy. I needed this, okay? I’ll go back to MIT once I feel like I can handle it, I promise.” Or once he’d raised enough money to manage the exorbitant expenses, even with scholarships. “I keep associating it with my parents, you know?”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just worry about you.”

“I’m good. I get to stare at the most perfect ass in creation twice a week.”

“Perv.”

“You love it.”

“Look, I gotta go, but call me more, yeah?”

“Course.” If he could rustle up more minutes for the month. “Miss you, pudding pop.”

“Miss you too, Tony.” He hung up, and Tony was left drifting back into thoughts of Steve’s hands and exactly where Tony would like them to end up on his body.

**

“So I told him that if he preferred carpal tunnel he could sign up to be a desk agent, but if he wanted to be a sniper, a little thing like a broken wrist shouldn’t slow him down.”

Tony burst into laughter, his hands stuttering over Steve’s back. “You’re such an _asshole.”_ He snorted, trying to find his rhythm again.

“Hey, it worked.”

“I’ll bet. If Captain America told me to get my ass in gear, even I would spontaneously sprout sniper abilities.”

“I think you should stick with your massage abilities,” Steve said quietly.

“You would say that. See out in the field you have all your baby duck agents looking up to you, but I’m the one who has you at my mercy now.”

Steve swallowed audibly, and Tony’s breath caught, wondering what he was thinking. “You sure do,” Steve muttered, low enough that Tony wasn’t sure he was supposed to have heard.

“Uh, you can turn over now,” Tony said, lifting the far side of the sheet, but Steve didn’t move.

“Um.”

“Steve? You okay?”

“Yeah... I just - I’d rather not turn over.”

“Why? Is the - Oh.” Tony resisted the urge to laugh. “It’s fine, you know. It’s a normal response. Happens all the time.” Even as he said it, he was mentally waving pom poms. Who cared that it really was a natural response, that it did happen all the time, even when he knew his client wasn’t attracted to him. He’d given Captain America a boner. Better than a fucking Oscar.

“I -”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I can do your arms like this.”

“No…” Steve grumbled. “I like the shoulder bit.” He rolled over, staring pointedly at the ceiling, his cheek flushed pink, mouth set in a straight line.

Tony _did not look._ He did not. That would unprofessional and embarrassing for his client. He didn’t look. He rolled the blankets down and let them drape over Steve’s lap to better cover him and immediately went to work on Steve’s hand, stretching out the tendons in his palms. Steve managed to carry four men’s worth of stress in his hands alone.

Steve let out a sigh and his eyes drifted shut, and okay maybe Tony looked _just a little bit._ He flicked his eyes up to where the blankets were slightly tented, and his mouth watered. If only he could just throw the blanket off entirely and wrap his lips around Steve’s cock. Maybe just climb up onto the table and ride him until he cried.

But he couldn’t - wouldn’t. He would never take advantage of Steve that way. Steve had come to trust Tony, it seemed, and it would break his heart to betray Steve like that just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. Steve didn’t seem to have many friends, and if Tony had miraculously become one of them, he wasn't going to ruin it.

Tony finished Steve’s hand, worked up his arm, then moved on to the other. Steve relaxed into the touch and the bump in the blanket disappeared, which helped Tony’s focus somewhat. When he moved on to the front of Steve’s shoulders, his eyes popped open and he smiled up at Tony.

“You like this part,” Tony said cheekily.

“I do.” Steve laughed. “I think that part is the tightest. Ugh.” He groaned as Tony dug his thumbs in even harder. “I was training with Nat right before this, and I think you found a boot-shaped bruise right there.”

“Your partner Nat?” Steve had brought her up a couple times, but Tony was still learning to keep track of all the SHIELD agents Steve worked with.

“Mhm.” Steve brightened. “She’s the only one who can keep up with me sparring. It’s nice.”

“I bet.” Tony chuckled. “Our problems are very different.”

“What are your problems?” Steve asked, then shook his head. “Sorry, none of my business.”

“Oh no, it’s fine. You know I love to talk about myself. I mostly meant that finding someone who can keep up with this isn’t much of a challenge.” Tony gestured at himself. “But my problems pretty much all have Overdue Notice stamped on them.”

Steve frowned. “Doesn’t SHIELD pay you well for this?”

“Oh yeah, they do. No complaints here. But you’re my only regular client right now and everything else with the agency is pretty patchy.” Tony shrugged. “It’s fine. I have a good life. Problems could be worse.”

Steve fell silent, and Tony itched to bring that smile back.

“So tell me more about Nat. She a good partner?”

Steve brightened again. “The best. She has the most amazing strategic mind, and I swear she can read mine. We just work so well in tandem. It’s nice. Reminds me of being in the Howlies.”

Tony’s stomach clenched. The way Steve smiled - that wasn’t platonic. It figured that Captain America would have a beautiful, strong, brilliant secret agent for a girlfriend. “And SHIELD doesn't have a problem with it?”

“With what?”

“You know, dating your work partner? I would think it would cause problems.”

“Dat-? Oh god no, we’re not dating. No…” His flush was replaced with horror. He swallowed hard then whispered, “No,” softly to himself.

Tony’s hands stilled. “That scary, huh.”

“Yes. I love her, but. No. I’m not actually dating anyone. Kind of hard to meet people when you’re 70 years out of your time and performing secret missions for a shady government organization.”

“See! It is shady. I’ve been saying that all along and you’re all, ‘No, Tony, they’re totally legit.’”

Steve laughed and bumped the top of his head against Tony’s hip with the movement. Tony bit his lip and focused on his hands instead of on the man they were touching.

So he was gorgeous, sweet, funny, good, and _single._ Tony was so fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve’s hands bounced as he talked, moving his shoulders under Tony’s hands. “She just shot it right out of his hand. It was insane.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony chastised, “don’t say that like I don’t know that you love insane.”

Steve huffed the way he did when he was rolling his eyes at Tony. “She could have killed him.”

“You thought it was hot. Admit it.”

Steve was silent for a moment. “Okay, it was pretty hot.”

Tony laughed, then poked Steve in the shoulder to let him know he should roll over. He spun under the blanket, and Tony carefully ignored the lump in Steve’s lap. Apparently the serum had enhanced more than his muscles, as Steve had stuttered out to the floor after the third time it had happened, and this happened a lot. It certainly didn’t make it any easier to be around Steve, though Tony wondered if that meant that Steve would be more understanding if he caught Tony with one of his own.

A fantasy of being caught and  _ appreciated  _ for it, wandered through Tony’s head, and he hit File > Save As: “yesplease.gif” on that little scenario because being crowded up against the dresser, while incredibly hot, was starting to get a bit old.

“But all the Howlies were terrified of her.” Steve’s voice was wistful. “She was amazing.” He’d finally started opening up about his past, something Tony hadn’t ever expected to hear about, and Tony was surprised at how many stories Steve had about his time with Peggy Carter and the Howling Commandos. And Erskine, the scientist who had turned him into Captain America. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Thanks.” Steve shifted a little on the table. “Sorry, I’m being depressing again.” He laughed self-deprecatingly.

“Not at all. I like hearing your stories.”

“Oh. Good.” 

Tony moved around to Steve’s other side, adding another squirt of oil to his hand as he passed the dresser. “I’ll admit it is a bit odd though. Talking about the 30s and 40s as if they happened yesterday.”

“Bet it’s weirder for me.”

“Yeah,” Tony conceded. He picked up Steve’s hand and traced the curves of it with firm fingers. There were calluses where the edge of the shield must have caught his hand during training that morning. Sometimes they were healed by the time Tony touched him, sometimes they were still there. Once, he’d seen a cut across Steve’s back heal to barely more than a mark, just in the hour they were together. It was equal parts amazing and freaky.

Steve moved on to a sillier story, about him and his old friend Bucky when they were young kids, before Steve became Captain America.

“I like Bucky,” Tony announced. “He reminds me of my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“Well, not really. He just feels like one. We’ve been friends forever. He’s in the air force now, so I hardly see him. He’s the best though.”

“Yeah? That’s good.”

Tony chuckled. Steve sounded high. He got like that sometimes, when he was particularly tired, or the massage hit all the right buttons. All dopey and pettable. “It is good.”

“Can you - down a bit. There’s a - yeah.”

Tony shifted his hands and found the knot, twisting and rubbing until it started to give.

“Mmmm.” 

Tony counted to ten carefully in his head, then, when that failed to tamp down the rush of arousal, he designed a new, more efficient circuit for the handwriting robot, following each trace in his mind’s eye as easily as he followed the tendons in Steve’s arm.

He thought Steve was getting a bit better, maybe. He was talking much more, and seemed more relaxed in general, though Tony couldn’t tell if that was just conditioning, when Tony was there. He still carried a lot of stress in his body, but his work was very physical. It did seem like overall his body was happier though. Tony allowed himself a moment of preening. He was the one that made Steve feel good like that, the one to rub out those sinful moans and happy sighs. 

And Steve gave so easily to him too. Here was this superhero that could lift a car, and he let Tony manhandle him into place with no resistance. Tony had no illusions that he’d be able to move Steve in the slightest if he didn’t want to be moved, but with a gentle touch he’d shift his arms, or roll over, of lift his legs. There was something primally satisfying about having all that strength at his fingertips.

**

“It’s our three month anniversary today, Cap,” Tony said with a wink. He snapped the legs of the table in place.

Steve smiled softly and tossed his shirt aside. “Longest relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“Pff, we passed that for me about three months ago,” Tony quipped back. “What is it for three months? Plastic? Fun size candy bars?”

“Vibranium,” Steve said. He leaned over and grabbed the edge of the shield, then held it out towards Tony. 

Tony completely failed to suppress a squeal. “Seriously? I can touch it?”

“You’ve been staring at it since day one,” Steve said with a laugh. “I can tell you want to - what was the word? Fanboy? All over it. Have fun.”

Tony took the shield and grunted as the weight brought his hands down until the shield smacked him in the gut. “You throw this thing? Jesus.”

Steve flexed and cocked an eyebrow. Tony seriously considered fainting. It wasn’t exactly manly, but it would be distinctly less embarrassing than any of the noises he was about to make. Steve shook his head in exasperated affection and hopped up to sit on the edge of the table while Tony tucked his arm through the straps. He turned to face the mirror that hung over the door to the bathroom, holding the shield out in front of him. 

“That’s so fucking cool.”

“Pretty much what I thought when they first gave it to me.”

Tony hefted it around, waving it and imaginary-throwing it at an amused Steve until he could no longer pretend that it wasn’t getting silly. He stepped over to Steve to hand it back, and Steve lifted it easily out of his hands. “Okay, officially the coolest three month anniversary present ever.”

Steve chuckled. “I thought this was your first three month anniversary?”

“Well, my next date is going to have a lot to live up to, just saying.”

Steve tossed the shield back onto the bed and stood up to shuck his pants, thumbs caught in his waistband. But Tony forgot to move back, and he found himself pressed chest to chest with Captain America. He squeaked and scurried away, but for a moment, there’d been an electric current between them, vibrant and invigorating. Did Steve feel it too? He didn’t mind the jokes about their anniversary, and Tony was pretty sure a relentlessly straight man from the nineteen forties wouldn’t be thrilled about those unless he was at least somewhat interested back.

The way he looked at Tony… sometimes it felt like there was something there, and that thought was almost painfully overstimulating. The fear of being caught out mixed with the thrill of crushing so hard, tangled through with utter confusion about how Steve felt in return.

Part of Tony desperately wanted Steve to like him back, because, well, obviously. But another part, almost as big, wanted Steve to be completely off-limits, no chance, married with children, not happening. Because Tony  _ couldn’t  _ act on his feelings, and the more he thought Steve might return them, the harder it became to ignore them.

Steve stripped down and lay on the table while Tony busied himself with his oils and towels. He wanted to break the weird tension that suddenly hung over the room so he asked, “So, if this is the longest, you’ve never had a massage therapist last this long before?”

“Nope. I - um - that milestone was also passed about three months,” he admitted. “Coulson was grumpy with me for a reason on your first day. He’d made appointments with four or five and none of them had worked out.”

“Why not?” Tony started to work his way up Steve’s leg.

Steve shrugged, his arms going limp. “I can be… intimidating, I guess? I don’t know. I have bad days sometimes, and I get… grumpy.”

Tony laughed. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“I scare people I think,” Steve added quietly. “They know that if I wanted to hurt them I could. Badly. I wouldn’t though, no matter how mad I get.”

Tony rested his hand over Steve’s knee for a moment. “I know you’d never hurt me.”

“Good.” Steve lifted his head to meet Tony’s gaze. “Good.” He nodded to himself then lay back down. “So yeah, I scared off a few before you.”

“Ah well, their loss.” He couldn’t help but wonder if it had more to do with the problem Tony currently had in his pants and not Steve’s - admittedly intense - temper. Tony went back to work, and a more comfortable silence settled between them.

When they were done, Steve grabbed his pants but didn’t reach for his shirt, instead reaching out to grab Tony’s wrist and stop him packing. They were standing too close together, and Steve’s fingers were fire on his arm, but Tony didn't move. 

“So, um, I won’t see you for at least two weeks,” Steve said.

“Why not?” A jolt of panic welled up. He tried a weak smile. “Are you dumping me, Rogers?”

Steve shook his head. “I have a mission - a long one. Undercover. I’ll be gone and off the radar for at least that long. But I’ll see you when I get back. I’ll need it after… that.”

Tony didn’t ask. “Okay. I’ll see you in two weeks then. Good luck.”

They were still standing too close, and Tony tensed, waiting for Steve to do something, anything, but he hung there, frozen, and in the end Tony was forced to slip out of his grip and turn back to packing his things. Steve startled away like he’d forgotten he was there. He grabbed his shirt and made for the door. “I have a meeting. Bye, Tony.”

“Bye Steve.’ Tony’s heart clenched painfully. Two weeks…

**

It took one week for Tony to realize how utterly fucked he was. He missed Steve viscerally and he’d only skipped two appointments. They’d been apart this long before, but this time it hurt. Tony put a google alert on his laptop for news about Captain America, but Steve must have been right about it being undercover because there was nothing. 

After two more days of painful pining, Tony came to a realization: he couldn’t do this anymore. 

What had started as a mild attraction had moved rapidly into a massive crush and now was painfully more. Tony was falling hard for a man he absolutely could not have and that wasn't fair to himself, or to Steve. Steve deserved to have a massage therapist who could keep it professional between them, and Tony wasn’t sure how much longer he could manage to do that; he’d probably already crossed the line.

He needed the money, yeah, but there would be other clients, other contracts. He could advertise, put up flyers or up his social media game. He could do this without SHIELD’s money. Pepper might even help him. If he couldn’t make rent, she’d let him crash at her place until he found some place cheaper. 

“No job is worth your mental health, Tony,” he said to himself, trying to match Rhodey’s tone and rhythm of speech. “If it’s making you unhappy, get out.”

But it wasn't exactly making him unhappy, it was making him miserable, and somehow those were different. Steve made him happy, being around him was like a light bulb being switched on, suddenly everything was bright, but being around him and not getting to have him was utter agony. It would be nice if those things cancelled each other out, but instead they both rolled around inside him, jockeying for position. 

It was too much; he had to quit. 

**

Tony pushed the button to call the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was going to push 5 and go to Coulson’s office and tell him he couldn’t do this anymore. That was what he was going to do. He wouldn’t go say goodbye to Steve, because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

He needed to end this with two weeks of distance between them. Steve wouldn’t mind, he wouldn’t miss him. He’d just get a different RMT from the agency. It would be fine.

The elevator doors sprung open, and to Tony’s horror and delight, Steve was there, in full uniform, shield in hand, scowling at the floor. Tony must have made a noise, an embarrassing one, no doubt, because Steve lifted his chin and spotted him. He broke into a brilliant smile. “Tony!”

“Hey, Steve.” Tony stepped into the elevator, unable to resist the gravitational pull Steve exuded towards him. 

“You’re early.” Steve’s lips twitched. “I don’t think you’ve ever been early before. Ten minutes late, sure.” His eyes danced, and Tony smacked him lightly on his incredible bicep.

“I had another appointment nearby. The walk was faster than I expected or I would have stopped to grab a coffee.”

“You still could. I need to shower - I was just doing training exercises. Sorry, it might be a few minutes.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Tony waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll get a coffee after. You take your time.”

They reached Steve’s room, and he disappeared into the attached bathroom while Tony dicked around on his phone. Ten minutes later Steve appeared in a cloud of spicy smelling steam, his hair wet and his skin tantalizingly shiny, a towel slung low around his hips. Tony eyes got stuck on Steve’s abs and try as he might, he couldn’t move them to a more appropriate location. Steve made a small, amused noise, and Tony jerked up from where he’d been sitting on the floor. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Guess I needed that coffee after all.”

Steve blushed - which he was doing a lot lately and was entirely unfair - and dropped the towel to spread out on the table. His skin was so warm and still smelled like his spicy body wash, and Tony mentally kicked himself for not taking the stairs to Coulson’s office. He couldn’t be here. This was  _ torture.  _ Steve was everything Tony wanted, and he couldn’t have him. 

He focused on the massage, trying to imagine Steve as just a leg, or just an arm, instead of the whole tantalizing package he was struggling so hard to resist. It didn’t work. Steve’s noises were as filthy as usual, and lacking caffeine, Tony’s traitor brain laid each moan and sigh over an image of Steve writhing while Tony’s fingers worked him over in an entirely different way.

Tony nudged Steve to turn over and bit his lip against the whimper that threatened to leak out when he saw how hard he was. He caught himself staring and pulled his eyes away, but apparently not fast enough because Steve sat up suddenly, the sheets pooling in his lap.

Tony opened his mouth to apologize, blush heating his cheeks, but when he managed to meet Steve’s eye it wasn’t anger he saw there, it was heat. “Steve…”

Steve leaned closer and stopped. They hung there, Tony’s hands stilled on Steve’s forearm, Steve’s gaze pinning Tony like a deer in headlights. There was a moment, like the moment when a poor quality video cuts out with a muddy swirl of colour and comes back to a new scene and you feel disoriented for a second. There was a moment like that, a swirl of muddy colour, and then they were kissing. Tony didn't know who had moved first. By the time he caught his balance again, he was pressed against Steve’s mouth.

Steve kissed like he did everything - careful, thorough, and with all of his heart. Tony’s breath evaporated out of his lungs. Steve’s hands grabbed at Tony’s hips and waist, jumping around as if he were afraid to leave them in one place for too long. All of Tony’s impulse control shattered in the wake of Steve’s lips on his, and he whined, wantonly, threw his arms around Steve’s neck and tried to climb into his lap.

Steve stood instead, driving them back towards the bed on the other side of the room. He turned as they fell so Tony landed on top of him, and his hands wandered up under Tony’s shirt. They were warm and a little slippery from the massage oil, and so were Tony’s as he slid them up Steve’s bare chest. 

Steve was naked and hard and writhing under Tony exactly the way he’d imagined it, and he wanted to pinch himself because this could  _ not  _ be happening to him of all people. There was no way Captain America wanted him back. But it was all of his fantasies twisted together and played out in front of him, and all he could do was hold on for the ride.

“Steve, fuck,” he whined, and Steve dropped his mouth to Tony’s neck, even as he tugged at his shirt. Tony lifted his arms, and Steve pulled the shirt off and tossed it aside. Steve’s eyes drifted down over Tony’s body, taking detours all over his chest and stomach, glowing at him like Tony was somehow the beautiful one here. 

There was a breath of a moment and then everything snapped frantic. Steve pawed at the rest of Tony’s clothes until he was naked too and their mouths met again as their hips rocked together. Tony kicked his pants away where they’d caught on his ankles and straddled Steve. His hard cock brushed against the inside of Tony’s thigh, and Tony moaned, finally letting out the sounds he’d held back for so long around Steve.

Steve’s hands dragged down Tony’s back and over his ass, and he tugged him closer, tiny needy noises leaking out between their mouths. “I want - I want -” Steve stuttered.

“What do you want, babe? Anything. Please tell me.”

Steve rolled them over sharply, and Tony’s head spun at how easy it was for Steve to move them. He’d had his hands all over those muscles but he hadn’t felt their strength until now. 

“Your hands ...” Steve gasped out, and Tony wrapped his fingers around Steve’s cock. Steve’s eyes drifted shut, and he pushed into the tight ring of Tony’s fist. “God…”

Tony kept his eyes fixed on Steve’s face, cataloging all those perfect expressions he’d been seeing for the wrong reasons over the last few months. Now, Steve’s gasps and moans and twisted face were all for him, all because he was the one who knew how to get him off.

“Ah, I love your hands,” Steve managed, burying his face in Tony’s neck and nibbling across his shoulder.

Tony stroked Steve, the slippery oil from the massage easing his slide. Steve shifted until his thigh was wedged between Tony’s legs, and Tony rocked gently against it, staying hard - how the fuck could he not honestly - but not getting any closer. He wanted this to last.

Steve’s breath started coming out in sharp pants against Tony’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. He leaned over to brace himself on one elbow and used his other hand to stroke down over Tony’s head, neck, and stomach. Tony’s hips jerked forward, eager for more contact, but Steve didn’t give him any. Tony picked up the pace, desperate now to see Steve let go, finally see him come.

And Steve didn’t disappoint. He twitched his hips into Tony’s hold, speeding up the pace. His hand clenched on Tony’s side then released, as if he was afraid of what a full-on squeeze could do. He arched his back, his thighs shaking, and he whispered, “Oh god, Tony I’m going to  -” right before he stilled, muscles tense and let out a long, low groan. Hot liquid sprayed over Tony’s stomach and chest, and he hummed with pleasure,  grinding against Steve’s thigh and stroking once more, milking him dry.

Steve slumped to the side, breathing heavily - Tony had made Captain America short of breath,  _ fuck _ \- but only for a moment before he was shifting down the bed and licking his way up Tony’s thigh to his cock. 

“Holy shit, Steve,” Tony choked. He wasn’t going to _ \- oh fuck yes he was.  _ Steve swallowed Tony down to the base, the serum having apparently done away with his gag reflex as well. “Fuck.” Tony thrust up into Steve’s mouth and was rewarded with a happy hum. 

He was covered in Steve’s come and Steve was sucking him off like he was fucking made to do it, swallowing him down deep then rocking back only to take him again. It was was wet and hot, and Steve was sprawled out over his legs so Tony could feel the curve of the muscles he’d been working loose for the last three months stretch out against his own skin so he knew it was real.

It was no surprise that it didn't take long at all. Tony tried desperately to hold out, wanting as much of this as possible, but Steve’s mouth felt too good and his strong, perfect hands wrapped around Tony’s hips, holding him in place as he began to writhe under the incredible sensation. He couldn’t manage words, but he flailed his hands in Steve’s hair in warning. Steve didn’t back off, though, and with his next swallow, Tony broke, his vision whiting out as he clenched and released, shooting deep down Steve’s throat.

Steve’s weight on his legs was suddenly immense, and Tony tried to find a more comfortable position but when he stretched out to the side, his leg smacked against the bracing bar of his massage table, and he froze. The realization of what he'd just done slammed into him harder than Steve’s shield. He was so  _ fucked.  _ “Shit. Oh fuck, what have I done?” He jerked to his feet and scrambled into his clothes, getting his shirt on backwards the first time and spinning it around in a sharp panic - _ god _ imagine if someone saw him coming out of Seve’s room with his fucking  _ shirt on backwards.  _

“Tony? What’s wrong. Are you okay?” Steve tried to grab his arm, but Tony darted away, throwing his things towards his bag and folding the table up with the sheets still a mess on top. He had to sit on it to get it to close, but it fit into his case and that was all that mattered. “Tony.’

“This was a monumentally bad idea,” Tony said, rounding on Steve.

“I - I thought you wanted to…”

“I did, I did. But that doesn't make it a smart move. Fuck, I’m such an idiot., Goddamn slave to my dick.”

“Tony, please - I don’t know what -”

“I signed all those forms. Steve I’m a professional - this is my -  _ fuck  _ \- I could lose my license. I’ll definitely lose my job with the agency. Coulson's going to make me disappear in the middle of the night. _ Shit.” _ He scrubbed his hands through his hair.

“Tony it’s okay. Can we just talk about -”

“Nope. No. This was - this was  _ terrible.”  _ Steve reared back, away from the words Tony was spitting out into the tiny room. He was holding his shirt between his hands, out in front of him like the shield. It was - it was too much. Tony grabbed his bags and fled.

**

“I’m so fucked.”

“Everything’s going to be fine, Tony.” Pepper’s soothing voice grounded him. “Do you really think he’s going to tell on you?”

“I - no. Not on purpose anyway, or at least not maliciously. But you don’t know him, Pep. He’s all reports and regulations. I mean he’s a little shit who absolutely breaks those rules whenever he can, but he never lies about it. He always owns up. But if he owns up to this he’s going to fuck me over completely.”

“Just take a breath, Tony. Sit down.”

Tony took another pass around Pepper’s living room. “I can’t. I’ll just vibrate off the seat again. I went there to  _ quit.  _ And then I banged him instead. What in god’s name was I thinking?”

“You weren’t thinking, Tony. He’s very attractive. You’ve never been one for thinking around attractive people.” She stood and came around the couch to hand him a glass of water.

“I think around you all the time,” he shot back, twinkling at her. Her lips twitched in a reserved smile he knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold back for long.

“My charm ran out of influence on you a long time ago, Mr. Stark.”

“Pep, I am hosed.” Tony downed half the glass of water and collapsed on the couch. She sat down next to him and pulled his head into her lap, scraping her long nails through his hair.

“Maybe you should call him? Make sure he understands that he can’t tell anyone.”

“No way. Nope. I can’t ever see him again. It’s too much. I was horrible to him, I can’t face him. Plus we’re back around to the thinking issu-” Tony jerked up as his back pocket started vibrating. He tugged his phone out. With his SHIELD cheques he’d been able to add caller ID to his plan, but that wasn’t going to last. It was the massage agency. He frowned at it. How had they heard already? He’d come straight to Pepper’s from SHIELD. Fuck, they worked fast. Well, better to pull off the band-aid. “Hello?”

“Stark, we have a last minute emergency booking for you. Are you available?”

“Where is it?” He figured he should probably take it. His non-Steve clients were few and far between these days. 

“SHIELD Headquarters in Manhattan.”

“Nope. No. No. I’m cancelling that contract. I can’t work there anymore. Send Darcy. He’ll like her.”

“Is there an issue with this client?” the dispatcher asked.

“No! He’s fine. It - it’s me. I can’t work there anymore. It’s too - intense with all those government goons.”

“Hmm. Okay. We’ll send someone else this time.” She didn’t sound pleased. 

“Thank you.”

Pepper flicked on HGTV and they were just arguing about paint colours when the phone rang again. The agency. Tony’s stomach flipped over. “Hello?”

“This client won’t accept anyone else.”

Tony dropped his face into his hands. “No… I can’t.”

“Look, Mr. Stark. Your numbers are not great for the last few months. This contract was the only lasting client relationship you’ve been able to cultivate. If you can’t keep this contract, we’re going to have to let you go. It’s just not worth it.”

Heat prickled the back of Tony’s eyelids. He didn't know what he was going to do without this job. “I - yeah okay, I get it. Thanks.” He hung up. “I got fired.”

Pepper made sympathetic noises. “They found out?”

“No. Apparently that contract at SHIELD was the only worthwhile thing about me.”

“Oh, Tony.” She pulled him into a hug, warm and soft and comforting. Tony bit his lip to keep from sniffling all over her like a child. 

“Can I stay here for a couple days? I can’t handle my asshole roommates right now.”

“Of course. Let’s go get your stuff.”

“I want to finish this episode first.’

“Okay.”

They curled up together on the couch and watched the first time renovators completely ruin their house. It wasn’t as satisfying as it usually was.

**

Tony turned up his music and picked up a tiny gear with a pair of jewellers’ tweezers. He almost had it in place when a voice from the other room called. “Tony! Door for you!”

Tony sighed and set his tools aside. “Who is it?” he called back.

“Don’t know, they won’t come up!”

“For fucks sake,” Tony muttered to himself. It was probably a collection agency come to break his knees. He tucked his tweezers in his pocket in case he had to stab someone in the eyes, aware that he’d probably watched too many mobster movies in the last week while he moped about. He threw shoes and a sweater on and trotted down the stairs. He pushed open the door and screeched to a halt. “Steve.”

Steve spun around to face him. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was slicked back. He smelled of that spicy body wash he used, and Tony resisted the urge to lean in and suck the intoxicating sent into his lungs.

“Tony.” His voice was soft, affectionate, but Tony raised all his defenses. He couldn't do this. He couldn’t face this. 

“What are you doing here?” He pulled his sweater tighter across his chest and tried to summon an off-putting glare.

It must have worked because Steve's brow furrowed, and he took a half-step back. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“We don’t?” Steve sounded hurt, and that was digging a hole in Tony’s chest over his heart. Why couldn’t this just be  _ over?  _

“We don’t. Please go.” He turned back to the door.

“Tony wait!” Steve made an aborted grab towards Tony’s arm but jerked back when Tony flinched. “I just - I need to talk to you about what happened. Did I do something? Did I hurt you? The agency wouldn’t give me your number and I -”

Tony rounded on him. “Did you tell them?”

“What? No, of course not. I just -”

“If anyone finds out what happened between us, my life is over. Steve, I don’t think you understand just how badly I fucked up here. Without that license, I have nothing, no way of supporting myself. If another agency will even take me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lost my job,” Tony bit out. “They didn’t find out, but losing your contract was too much. They let me go. But if they do find out, I could go to jail. I am not allowed to sleep with a client. And beyond all that, I signed a novel’s worth of forms in Coulson’s office detailing all of things I wasn't allowed to do, and that was definitely one of them.”

“I can deal with Coulson,” Steve insisted, pleading now. “And if you need money, Tony. I can pay you more. It doesn’t even have to be through SHIELD. You can be my - uh - my personal massage therapist and then you can't -”

“I’m not a whore,” Tony spat out. His grief and frustration were morphing into anger. Why couldn't Steve just leave him alone? “You can’t buy me. If you’re lonely, pay a therapist or a hooker to spend time with you. We made a mistake, and it’s done now. Leave me alone.”

Steve gasped and twitched towards him again. “It wasn't a mistake, Tony. It wasn't. You know it wasn't.”

“Yes, it was. Probably the biggest fucking mistake I’ve made in my life.”

“It didn't feel like a mistake,” Steve said, his voice dropping low.

“It doesn't matter how it felt,” Tony was almost begging now. Begging for Steve to understand, to leave, to forget it all. “It doesn't matter. It stops now, all of it. I have to – I have to go. I left my soldering iron on. Please don't – don't come here again.”

“Tony...”

“Steve, please,” he said, his voice strained. Tony turned before Steve could grab him or plead again. He could only resist so many times before he broke. He shoved through the door, stumbled up the stairs and slid to the floor in his bedroom, a harsh tremble shaking his core even though it hadn’t been that cold outside. He was never going to see Steve again.


	3. Chapter 3

“What’s this?” 

Tony stuck his head out of his room to see Rhodey standing in his living room, a bag at his feet, and his key and Tony’s mail in one hand. “Rhodey!” Tony flung himself at his best friend, and Rhodey only just managed to catch him without sending them both to the floor. He hugged Tony tight, and Tony burrowed into his hold. God, he’d missed him. “What are you doing here! You surprised me.” Tony punched Rhodey lightly in the arm, but Rhodey wasn’t smiling. He was looking at the mail again.

“Tony?”

Tony tugged the overdue notices out of his hands. “It’s nothing.” He tossed them aside.

“Why don’t you have your bills on autopay? You’re going to get dinged interest.”

Tony shuffled uncomfortably. “I can’t afford them,” he admitted.

“What?” Rhodey stopped his path into the kitchen and spun around. “You what?”

“I’m broke, okay?”  He hadn’t meant to say it, but he felt so weak and helpless since he’d lost his job. He just wanted to bawl and crawl into Rhodey’s lap and forget about Captain fucking America. “I told you my trust fund was unaffected by Obie’s shit, but it wasn’t. Everything’s gone. I've barely been getting by.”

“Wha - Tony - what -?” Rhodey spluttered. “Why didn’t you  _ tell  _ me?”

“Because then you’d look at me like that…” Tony slumped down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, Tony.” He collapsed next to him. “I’m sorry man.”

“Thanks. And now I’ve lost my job because I was stupid enough to sleep with a client, and I was barely scraping by on massage money anyway. Ugh.” Tony dropped his face into his hands.

“Let me help, man.” Rhodey’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“I can't take your money, Rhodey, I won’t.”

Rhodey sighed. “I know. Look my buddy owns a bar on 7th Ave. He always needs people. You know how to tend bar, right? He’ll give you something steady.”

Tony resisted the urge to groan. He did know how to tend bar, but he hated it. People were always drunk and obnoxiously demanding. And he wasn’t allowed to drink himself. But he needed it, so he nodded. “Thanks, Rhodey.”

“No problem.”

Rhodey was true to his word and a week later, Tony had his first shift at Clyde’s. It wasn’t too busy which was nice, but bad for tips. It was easy work, though. The bar was actually more of a pub, and instead of crowds of sweaty, drunk idiots trying to get laid, he was mostly pouring beers for the waiters to bring to their tables. It wasn’t fun, but it was steady money, just enough to keep his apartment, and the kitchen shared leftovers every night, so his grocery bills went down. 

It wasn’t exactly nice, but it kept him in solder wire and resistors, so who was he to complain?

**

Tony’s computer chimed, pulling him out of the sulking he would staunchly deny is he was doing if someone asked. He opened his email.

_ T- _

_ Did you see this? _

_ www.rtnationwideengineering.com/contests/roboticsnationwide.html _

_ -Pep _

Tony clicked the link and waited for the page to load on his glacial internet. It was a robotics competition, looking for people under thirty with an innovative robotics design. Tony looked down at his tiny handwriting robot. It was innovative, that was for sure. The way the arm moved to write revolutionary, if Tony did say so himself. It would probably bring prosthetic limb technology forward a few years, at least. 

But since his father’s company had collapsed, Tony hadn’t been interested in sharing his work with the world. Most people seemed to have forgotten the name Stark, or as least, it wasn’t enough to trigger recognition, but if he started sharing his work, sending his projects to contests… surely someone would notice. 

He left the page up while he continued work on his bot. After an hour he picked up the phone.

“Is it a good idea?” he asked as soon as Pepper answered. 

“I think so,” she said, reading his mind as usual. “You could use the money, that’s for sure.”

“Money?”

“Didn’t you look at the prizes?”

“No?” Tony scrolled down. Oh. “Okay, it’s suddenly looking very appealing. Man, five thousand dollars wouldn’t solve all my problems but it sure would help.”

“I think you should do it, Tony. You’d win for sure. Rhodey says sometimes the government hands out design contracts based on those sorts of things. They’d want to snap you up.”

It was an interesting idea. A design contract would be much nicer than forming his own startup and facing his father’s tainted footsteps again. “Alright, I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

After hemming and hawing for almost two days, Tony sat back and looked at his finished robot. “You’re going to DC, little fella.” He worked two extra night shifts at the bar to save up the money to mail it in, filled out the entry form carefully, and sent it off.

It was over a month until the results would come back, and Tony spent that time working as hard as he could at the bar and with the four massage clients he’d managed to rustle up since the agency had fired him. He couldn’t bring himself to take Steve’s alert off google, unable to resist the urge to open each email and die a little more at every “Captain Steve Rogers” and “Captain America” that filled his inbox. It was all stuff of no consequence - PR outings, meetings with political bigwigs, the occasional military operation - but Tony devoured them all.

It was the only weakness he allowed himself, well, bar one. He refused to let himself think about Steve, talk about Steve, or mope about Steve, except in the privacy of his room at night, when he wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked. Then he always thought about Steve, there was no way around it.

**

Jane leaned against the counter and sighed. 

“What’s up, darling?” Tony asked, tipping the beer glass as he filled it to keep the head small. 

“Birthday party.” She pulled her ponytail loose and retied it, stretching out her shoulders.

“Sorry.” Tony shot her a sympathetic look. “Hopefully they tip nice.” He loaded up the rest of her tray then frowned at the way she was rubbing at her neck. “Meet me in the back on your break. I’ll work that out for you.”

She sighed gratefully. “Thank you, Tony. That would be amazing.”

Tony waved away her thanks, going back to the tray of clean glasses to unload. He’d barely made a dent when one of the barbacks called him to the office. 

“You have a call.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He picked up the phone. “Hello?

“Tony!” It was Pepper. “Where are you? Did you check your phone?!”

“I’m at work. What are you talking about?”

“You won!”

“What?”

“The contest!” Pepper shouted. “You won!” 

“I  _ what?” _

“Tony, we need you behind bar!” Jane called.

“One minute!” He turned back to the phone. “Pepper, what?”

“Check your phone, Tony. They announced the winners, and you won the grand prize.”

“Oh my god.” Jane yelled for him again, and Tony swore. “I have to go, but I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

“Congratulations, Tony.”

“Thanks, Pep.”

Tony made it through the rest of his shift in a haze. He checked his phone on his break, before working the knot out of Jane’s shoulder, and sure enough he had a voicemail from the foundation. His little bot had won the grand prize. 

All the winners for all the categories attended a special awards ceremony and dinner, and Tony only had a small tinge of sadness that it was Pepper who was going to be on his arm instead of Steve. 

It didn't last long, however. Pepper was amazing company, as always, and she looked beautiful in her low-backed dress. She let Tony dance with her, even though he always did his best to embarrass her as much as possible on the dance floor, and she stuffed her purse full of appetizers so they could drink cheap champagne and eat the remaining crab puffs on the roof of her building after the party. 

Tony had a pang of wistful nostalgia - these were the kinds of parties his parents used to take him to - but he let it go as easily as it had come. It was better to have earned it, to be here because he deserved to be and not because his family had bought him in. He wanted to build his own creations, and this was where that would start. 

He was presented with an award, and he gave a speech that Pepper said went very well even though he felt distinctly uncomfortable up there on the stage. Everyone wanted to shake his hand, and he had four business cards slipped into this pocket. By the time they left, his head was spinning and he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. 

They stayed up late, curled together in a blanket, tipsy and smiling, snorting with laughter at anything that was even remotely funny. As they tired, Tony leaned his head over on Pepper’s shoulder. “I miss Steve. I would have liked to have told him about this,” Tony whispered to the dark, night air.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She tipped her head on top of his. “Want to call Rhodey and put him on speakerphone and tell him what a great party he missed?”

Tony looked at his watch. “I’m too drunk to do math, but I’m pretty sure it’s sleepy o’clock where he is right now.”

“Oh, good point.”

Their resolve lasted only ten minutes, and then they called Rhodey anyway, leaving an obnoxiously slurred voicemail when he didn’t pick up. They dissolved into another fit of giggles, and Tony leaned back against the railing and set Pepper between his bent knees, working his thumbs into the stiff muscles of her shoulders. She hummed in pleasure, and Tony smiled. Even if someday he stopped massaging for money, he’d never stop using it to make his friends happy.

“I’m so proud of you, Tony.”

**

When Tony’s email chimed and he looked up to see SHIELD HR as the from address, his heart stopped. They’d finally pried it out of Steve, even after six months, and now Coulson was going to call him into his office so he could make him disappear. He’d violated his agreement, he’d defiled a national icon. He was dead meat.

He put it off for two hours, but he finally couldn't take it anymore. He opened the email.

_ Re: Robotics Nationwide Contest. _

_ Dear Mr. Stark, _

_ Congratulations on your recent win. We have reviewed your entry, and we would like to arrange a meeting between you and Agent Hill to discuss a possible design contract with our agency at 2pm, this Wednesday, the 3rd. Please bring a current CV and the blueprints from two recent designs with you.  _

_ Regards, _

_ Agent Sitwell _

Tony stared at his screen. It made no sense. Rhodey had said that he might snag a government contract from this, but he’d never expected it to be with SHIELD. Didn’t they know what he’d done? Maybe... Maybe they didn’t. Maybe Steve had made an excuse for Tony. Or maybe they just hadn’t made the connection between Tony the slutty massage therapist and Tony Stark the engineering contest winner.

He debated refusing the meeting, but the moths in his wallet pushed him to at least go and find out what it was about. He still hadn't completely disregarded the possibility that it was all a ruse orchestrated by an angry Coulson, but he was broke and tired of tending bar, and sometimes good things happened, right?

He replied saying he would be there, then turned his computer off and watched brain melting TV until he was tired enough to go to bed.

He spent the rest of the days leading up to the meeting putting together a CV that highlighted his engineering background instead of his muscle rubbing background and reprinting blueprints on professional paper. He still had a little money left over from his winnings, so he bought a secondhand suit and splurged on the fancy coffee.

He called Pepper four times the morning of the meeting, and Rhodey twice, but they both told him to fuck off and go wow SHIELD, so with veins pumping full of caffeine and the energy that only sheer terror could bring, Tony set off for SHIELD HQ.

It was painfully familiar, walking into the massive stone building, but Tony hit the button for the seventh floor, instead of the third and breathed a sigh of relief at how foreign the hallway up here looked. He padded down to the office he’d been sent to and knocked. 

A young woman with a shock of freckles answered the door and ushered him into the main office. Maria Hill looked like a smart, no-nonsense kind of woman, and she smiled kindly at him and shook his hand before offering him a seat. The meeting was efficient and to the point. She flipped through the packet he had brought, asked him several difficult but engaging questions, then asked him if he had any in return.

He had one pressing one, but he deflected with a few random ones about the work environment and the sorts of specs and materials he’d be working on. When she’d answered everything he could think to ask, he hesitated then bit the bullet. “Will I - uh - if I get the contract, will I meet Captain America?”

She rolled her eyes slightly. “No. You’ll be in an entirely different part of the building. Actually, if you have a workspace, this is a job you can do a lot of from home.”

Tony let out a tense breath and muttered, “Good,” under his breath. She shot him an odd look but didn’t say anything. “I think that’s everything, Agent Hill. Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark, We’ll be in touch.”

Tony spent the next week pacing his apartment in a raw panic. He cancelled two of his massage appointments, despite really needing to take them if this contract didn’t happen, because he was so keyed up he knew he wouldn't be able to focus enough to do a good job. He kept expecting SHIELD’s background check to throw up some sort of flag, and for them to call him and tell him that they couldn’t let Captain America’s groper work for them. He half expected an angry Steve to show up at his apartment again and ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, trying to work at SHIELD again.

But none of those things happened. Exactly one week after his interview, Maria Hill’s assistant called him and informed him that he had the contract and to report to Hill’s office on Monday for an introduction to the department head and his first project.

Tony put in his notice at the bar the next day. First the contest and now a contract? Things were finally looking up. Now, all he had to do was get over a certain super soldier.

**

He managed two months before he ran into Steve. He’d seen him once before, at the end of the hall, but he’d managed to dodge him. But eventually, he was caught out. He had his nose buried in the specs for his latest fully articulated robot hand, leaning back against the far wall of the elevator, when the doors dinged open. It wasn’t his floor so he didn’t look until he heard a choked out, “Tony?!” and then his eyes snapped up. 

“Steve.”

Steve barrelled into the elevator and slammed his finger against the door close button as if he thought Tony might bolt - which wasn’t exactly out of the realm of possibility. Tony cowered against the far wall, mortified. Steve stared at him intensely but didn’t crowd his space, vibrating on the other side of the elevator. “Tony…” he repeated, softer this time.

“I got a job here,” Tony said by way of explanation. “I’m on contract. Design work.”

Steve looked legitimately stunned. “Wow, that’s - that’s incredible. Your robots?”

“That’s how I got in, yeah, but it's mostly mechanical engineering of a different sort now.” Tony shuffled his weight back and forth between his feet. His stomach twisted with anxiety, and he prayed that the doors would open again. 

Steve’s hand twitched towards him. “Tony can we - will you please come talk to me? Just give me ten minutes. I can’t leave things like this. Please? I promise I won’t - I won’t touch you or anything. I just need to talk.”

Tony blinked at him, confused as to why Steve thought Tony would be worried about him touching him, but the distraction was enough that his traitor head started nodding before Tony could figure out what was happening. Steve let out a relieved sigh and hit the button for his floor.

Tony followed him down the hallway, all the memories of their three months together slamming into him as he walked down the familiar hallway to Steve’s door. Steve opened the door and gestured Tony in. It looked the same. The sinful dresser was still there, the mirror on the back of the door. Tony had a fleeting memory of standing in front of it goofing around with the shield while Steve looked on in nothing but his sweatpants.

But this Steve was fully dressed and frowning. And looking at the floor instead of Tony.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Tony bit out, tense. “So talk.”

Steve shook his head as he were a dog shaking water out of his hair then looked up at Tony. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. For what happened. I never meant to hurt you. I’m - I feel horrible about you losing your job. I was selfish, and I didn’t think about what it would mean for you.”

“You? What are you talking about? I’m the selfish idiot. You trusted me. I was your friend. And I threw it all away because I couldn’t keep it in my pants. I shouldn’t have let my stupid feelings for you mess up what we had.”

Something flickered to life in Steve’s eyes. “Feelings?”

Tony shrugged then picked at an invisible spot on his shirt. “Well, yeah. I thought that was clear with the whole jumping you in a horribly unprofessional way thing.”

“But _ I  _ jumped you.”

“What?”

“Tony, you can’t take the blame for this. I should have just let you do your job, but I - I couldn’t help it. You’re so -’ Steve bit his lip, cutting off his sentence, and Tony swallowed hard, a new kind of hope blooming in his chest.

“So what?” he pressed.

“So… incredible. Sexy. Brilliant.” Steve took two steps forward until he was just on the edge of Tony’s space. “Everything I’ve always wanted.”

“You really think that?”

“Of course I do. I don’t - I don’t trust people lightly, Tony. You meant - mean a lot to me.”

“But that’s exactly it. You trusted me, and I violated that trust. I was giving you something you needed, You seemed… happier. And I ruined it all,” Tony said.

“You didn’t. I was happier, but not because of the massages, because of you. All I wanted was more you, Tony.”

“Well, fuck.” Tony pushed past Steve and sat down hard on the bed. 

Steve crouched down in front of him. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No. It’s not that. I’m - ugh. This - I need to reorient some things in my mind.”

“Okay.” Steve waited patiently.

“I thought I was taking advantage of our friendship. You trusted me and I was helping you feel better, and I ogled you and practically groped you, and pushed you for sex.”

Steve shook his head. “That's not how it was for me at all. I - I fell in love with you,” he admitted shakily, and Tony sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t think about all the forms and rules and stuff. I thought you wanted to be with me and that was what was happening. I thought - I was going to take you out to dinner after…” Steve trailed off mumbling to the floor now, and Tony reached out and caught his jaw in his fingers, unable to deal with seeing Steve look so sad.

“You can take me to dinner now.”

Steve looked up sharply, desperate. “Really?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I really am. I was really struggling back then and dealing with how I felt about you was just - it was too much.” Tony coughed lightly. “Plus, I still am really frightened of what Coulson’s going to do with me.”

Steve chuckled. “I tried to tell you. Coulson's not a problem. I told him the minute I started having feelings for you.”

A slow grin bloomed across Tony’s face. “Oh yeah? When was that?”

Steve leaned in until Tony could feel his breath on his lips. “Embarrassingly early,” he whispered.

“I love you too you know,” Tony said against Steve’s lips, and he was rewarded with a searing kiss. 

**

As promised, Steve took him to dinner. Steve’s bed called to them both, but they agreed begrudgingly that it would be a good idea for them to talk before they ended up between the proverbial sheets again. Or up against the dresser. Or the mirror. Tony had a lot of fantasies to catch up on, but they would have to wait.

Steve took him to a small family diner that he said he loved because the owners recognized him there, but no one else did. It was cosy, and the lasagne was fantastic, and Steve spent the whole first hour telling Tony everything he did while they were apart.

“There was also a lot of moping,” Steve admitted when he was done telling Tony about his new sparring routine with Natasha. 

Tony grinned. “I know nothing about that.”

“Coulson threatened to have me put on an overseas, undercover mission for a year if I wouldn’t cut it out.”

Tony couldn’t help the panic that welled up again. What they’d done was still illegal. “What did you tell him?”

Steve played with his linguine for a moment. “I didn’t out you. I just told him that I told you how I felt, and you were uncomfortable with it and didn’t want to keep working with me.”

“Oh.”

“I never wanted to put your career in jeopardy, Tony. If I’d known that’s what we were doing, I never would have let it go so far while I was still a client.”

“It’s okay, Steve, really. I got so caught up in all the risks, I didn't stop to consider that this might be the start of something amazing. If I’d taken a deep breath for a moment and actually talked to you when you came to see me, I’m sure that’s what you were trying to say.”

“Well, I was trying to apologize, at least. I didn’t know you felt the same way. I thought you were - um - disgusted by me. I guess.”

“What?”

“You ran out, horrified. I thought I’d either hurt you or maybe you couldn't believe you’d… you know… I’m kind of a scientific guinea pig. Not everyone is into that.” Steve’s eyes dropped to the table.

Tony reached out and covered Steve’s hand with his own. “I’m very into that.”

Steve wound their fingers together and smiled. “Good.”

“So, you said the agency wouldn’t give you my number so I always wondered how you got my address.”

Steve turned scarlet. “I may have um… there may have been some misuse of government records.” He cringed. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony snorted. “You know, in retrospect, that’s kind of romantic. But I’d better give you my number now so we don’t both end up in jail.”

While he added his contact to Steve’s phone, Tony told him what he had been up to, preening when Steve’s jaw dropped open at the winning of the contest. “So, I work at SHIELD again,” he finished with. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Is what going to be a problem?”

“Is it going to be a problem -” Tony leaned forward over the table to whisper in Steve’s ear. “ - when I bring you back to your room and take you to pieces with these hands the way I know you want me to?”

Steve shivered. “It will absolutely not be a problem,” he breathed. “I’m sure Coulson will want us to sign something, but there’s no policy against it. Besides, we’re in completely different departments.”

They gazed stupidly at each other for a long moment. “Do you want dessert?” Steve asked. “Or should I get the bill?”

“I do want dessert.” Tony leered at him. “But you should absolutely get the bill,” he purred.

Steve leapt to his feet and paid at the counter then dragged Tony out into the street, making them both laugh. They giggled their way back to SHIELD then snuck soft touches and fleeting kisses whenever the elevator emptied. 

As soon as they tumbled through Steve’s door, clothes started hitting the floor. Tony tugged his own shirt off while Steve kicked his pants to the floor. Then they swapped, Tony pulling at Steve’s shirt while Steve wrestled with Tony’s fly.

Eventually, they both stumbled into bed, naked and wrapped around each other, their hands exploring all the places they hadn't been in eight months.

“I missed you,” Steve murmured against Tony’s lips.

“I missed you so much.” Tony ran his hands down Steve’s back, making him moan. “I was an idiot to ever let this go.”

“Me too.” Steve grabbed Tony and twisted until he lay on his back with Tony straddled over his hips. “Tony - I want… I want to feel you inside me.”

Tony’s breath caught. He rubbed his hands over Steve’s chest, finding all the places he knew would earn him a sigh. “I would love that.”

Steve steadied Tony with one hand while he stretched out to grab the lube from the bedside drawer.

“This is off topic, but someday I need you to fuck me up against that dresser,” Tony threw out, and Steve almost fell off the bed.

“What?” he choked out.

“I’ve thought about it  _ a lot.”  _

_ “Shit.”  _ Steve arched up against Tony’s thighs, eyes dazed.

“Next time,” Tony promised. “For now, I want to give you this.” He ran both his palms down Steve’s chest and shuffled backwards to settle between his legs.

“Yes,” Steve breathed out, his eyes drifting closed.

Tony kissed his way around Steve’s stomach and thighs for a moment while he slicked his fingers. He circled Steve’s hole with the pad of one finger, and Steve tensed then whined. “Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He pushed inside Steve’s heat.

Steve cursed and wrapped his fists in the sheets. 

“I wanted to do this every time I had you on my table,” Tony whispered, knowing Steve’s superhearing could pick it up easily. “Take my slick hands and just work my way up your beautiful body, slip inside you, work you open until you were sobbing mess, get you off with my hands.”

“Oh fuck, Tony.”

Tony added a second finger and started pumping them into Steve with purpose now, hooking them to catch his prostate on every second thrust. Steve’s cock leaked against his stomach and Tony licked it up, letting his cheek brush the length of Steve’s cock, making it jump towards his mouth. 

“You’re so responsive. Even when I was massaging you. The way you’d groan and gasp and twitch under me. It was too much. Fuck, Steve, you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Steve’s lip disappeared between his teeth, and he tensed up, squeezing around Tony’s fingers and stealing his breath. 

“I can’t wait to feel that on my cock,” Tony moaned.

“Yes, yes please, I’m ready.” One of Steve’s hands snapped to Tony’s head and tugged gently at his hair. Tony thrust his fingers in a few more times, and satisfied that Steve was slick and loose, he crawled up over Steve’s body and claimed his mouth in a searing kiss.

Part of Tony’s initial introduction to Steve was that he couldn’t catch or transmit any diseases so Tony didn’t have to worry about coming to work contagious. But now, it meant that Tony could reach down and slick his bare cock then press it into Steve’s body without any barrier between them. They swore in tandem as Tony pushed past the ring of muscle and slide his way, inch by inch, into Steve’s eager heat.

They lost themselves to the rhythm of it, slow but intense, as Tony pressed deep inside Steve with every thrust. Steve gave so easily and so beautifully under him, just like when he’d been spread out on Tony’s table. And it was too much, too perfect, too much exactly what he needed. Tony moaned, so close it was torture holding off, but he wanted to see Steve come first. He wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock, slick with lube, and stroked, twisting his palm around the head in time with every thrust. 

“Oh god.” Steve’s eyes locked on Tony’s face and he tensed all over. “I’m close.”

“Yeah. Come for me, babe. Let me see you let go.” Tony changed the angle and breathed out in hard pants, holding his own orgasm off with sheer force of will. Steve tensed and twisted until Tony found the right spot, and then he cried out. His body rippled around Tony’s cock and he couldn’t help it, he snapped his hips forward and broke, spilling inside Steve in long, overwhelming waves. He felt Steve tense too, milking the last of his orgasm out of Tony, then he bit out Tony’s name and came over his fist. 

They collapsed, sweaty and come-covered on Steve’s bed. Steve's hand shot out and grabbed Tony’s. “Don’t leave this time,” he whispered, a little too desperately to be anything but heartbreaking.

“I won’t.” Tony curled over his chest and pressed kisses everywhere he could reach. “I’m sorry, I won’t leave.”

“I’m glad we found each other again.” Steve rolled onto his side and tucked Tony into his arms. “Nobody has ever made me as happy as you did - do.”

Tony leaned forward to press a kiss to the end of Steve’s nose. He knew it wasn’t always going to be easy - dating a superhero was somewhat terrifying - but Captain America wasn’t the one in bed with him, Steve was, soft and open and loving and  _ his. _ And now that he knew what he had and what he could have? He wouldn’t give it up for anything. 


End file.
